


Broken Petals

by ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789/pseuds/ScarletEyesInTheNight123456789
Summary: “Do you love him?"Machi has never seen such pure hatred in anyone’s aura before. "Never." Without any hesitation, he elaborates. "Love is a poison."Illumi is everything that Machi isn't - cold, distant, born into luxury. They have no reason to cross paths - the only thing linking them together is Kalluto. From there, Illumi discovers what true hatred is, and Machi has no choice but to deal with the consequences of that.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Machi (Hunter X Hunter), Machi/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46
Collections: Hunter x Hunter, Hunter x Hunter Fanfiction, HxH Ship Fics, hunter x hunter





	Broken Petals

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say thank you to Chocoholic221B for beta reading! She's a great writer, so be sure to check out her fics!
> 
> Here's an Illumachi story (I hope that's the ship name) that I've been wanting to write for a while, since there aren't too many on AO3.

The sky is bitter tonight, like Machi’s heart. The last thing she wants is to be standing here, before the Zoldyck manor, Kalluto’s mitten-covered hand warm in hers.

So. This is where they live.

The mountains and mist in the background threaten to swallow the enormous structure whole. It’s more than a home - it’s a castle so tall that it’s in danger of brushing against the sky. It’s proof enough that these people don’t come from the same world as her.

And there’s a young man her age, a complete stranger that Chrollo has warned her about, leaning against the threshold. His eyes are the same empty, luminescent black as the outside of the manor. Everything about him is unnatural, from how glossy his dark hair is to how stiffly he holds himself as the wind whirls by.

“Welcome back, Kalluto.” But Illumi isn’t looking at his brother when he speaks those words. He’s looking at her.

She swears that he’s snapping a photo of her in his mind, memorizing her in case he needs to use his pins to become her one day. That cold gaze burns through everything, from her pink hair to her exposed neck to the faint curves that her form-fitting coat must be doing little to play down.

“Take a picture. It might last longer.” She didn’t think she’d need to use her sharp tongue around anyone besides Hisoka any time soon. But her statement doesn’t prod him into displaying any sort of reaction. All he does is continue to stare unblinkingly, as though he’s not even human.

Everything about him signals danger. And everything within her screams at her, begs her, to turn around and leave.

So, she turns around.

“No. Stay.” She stops in her tracks, back turned to him, at the calm request given by a hostile stranger. “The storm will last a week. I insist. Consider it a favor for taking Kalluto under your wing.”

She laughs to herself, head tilting downwards as the wind howls in her ears. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” It seems that sarcasm is lost on him.

Kalluto tugs on Machi’s hand eagerly. “It would be great if you stayed, Machi,” he says, and she knows that Illumi doesn’t like that at all. His aura, a slowly darkening cloud, gives away the possessiveness, the biting jealousy, tearing through him.

She knows why she’ll say yes, despite her revulsion at the idea. After all, the dagger in her pocket is impossible to forget, and she’s glad that Illumi has made her job ten thousand times easier.

“Anything for you, Kalluto-chan,” she finally says, continuing to avert her gaze from Illumi’s with a mixture of dread and distaste.

..........

“This is the room you will be staying in. Do not hesitate to ask a butler if there is anything you need.” Illumi gestures at the open doorway, in his element in this eerie mansion - it’s like he was born to live in a place like this. Either that, or the mountains carved a castle just for him. “You’ll find more hospitality here than in the city of your birth.” There’s a heaping dose of wickedness in that statement that reminds her of Hisoka.

It’s silly that those words are enough to make her feel the way she does right now, like she’s a helpless child again, dressed in rags, lower than the lowest ant.

As he walks past her, there’s the faintest trace of a mocking smirk peeking through his lips.

.......

Machi wakes up in the middle of the night to a stirring in her aura. Her _nen_ buzzes through her veins, and she sits up immediately, the darkness rendering her momentarily blind. She looks to her left, and . . .

Her heart starts pounding.

Illumi is sleeping beside her, the moonlight from the window shining off of his pale complexion. He breathes softly, chest moving slowly up and down, his stormy gray aura nearly depleted due to what appears to be exhaustion. It’s only now that the faint bags under his eyes are visible - he must have used his needles to cover them up. Even so, he still looks quite attractive -

But never mind that. What, pray tell, is he doing in here?

She’s about to shake him awake (actually, she’s about to smack him awake) when she considers the sort of opportunity this presents. The glint of the bejeweled knife handle peeks out ever so slightly from underneath her pillow, a glaring reminder of what she must do. She places her hand on the cool metal -

But his eyelids are fluttering open now, and her chance has passed.

“I apologize. I have an unfortunate habit of sleepwalking,” he says, standing and looking around the room as though observing pleasant scenery. That’s when she notices a few dried tears on his cheeks. Did he cry himself to sleep? Is he forcing himself to maintain that emotionless, robotic monotone?

If it were anyone else, she would ask him the reason for those tears. She would comfort him.

His statement adds up – if he truly had malicious intent, he would have attacked her, not fallen asleep next to her. “Well, this better not fucking happen again –“

“I can’t be certain, but I believe I woke up due to being stared at. Is this true?” His tone suggests that he doesn’t care. But something predatory has entered those normally blank eyes.

Does he really expect her to admit to it? “There’s no reason for me to stare at you –“

“I find that hard to believe.” The air is dripping with suspicion, but Illumi only studies her briefly before reaching for the doorknob. 

When he leaves the room, the image of him is still stamped into her mind. It’s the image of a tall figure looking down at her, telling her with his eyes alone that he is worth everything, and that she has never and will never be anything.

........

The next morning, Machi detects a vivid, repulsive aura in the manor that never ceases to remind her of bubble gum. It can’t be a coincidence. Nothing is ever a coincidence with Hisoka.

She turns a corner in the hallway, following that aura, and comes face-to-face with a sight that she really should have expected to see, knowing the kinds of things Hisoka gets up to.

Illumi has Hisoka pressed up against the wall, and even when Hisoka’s lips are enveloped in Illumi’s, tongue entangled in his, Hisoka still looks like an arrogant fool with nothing better to do than waste people’s time. And when they pull away from each other, Machi notices a gleaming bite mark on the side of Illumi’s neck.

 _Human tears last night, and human desires today. Does this mean you’re human after all?_ She tries to cast away the image of him dominating Hisoka, holding him captive against the wall, but she simply can’t. Maybe she doesn’t truly want to.

Hisoka won’t take his eyes off her, and neither will Illumi. As usual, there’s no way to tell what Illumi’s thinking. But at least Hisoka voices his thoughts on a regular basis, even if no one is particularly interested in his opinion half the time. “Been looking for Illu, have you, Machi? It’s difficult to blame you. He is rather enticing, isn’t he?” He licks his lips, and every atom in her being recoils from him, as usual. “It’s quite a shame that a spider and a Zoldyck make for a rather forbidden love story.”

“What do you want from me?” Machi says.

“From you?” He glances at Illumi. “Nothing in particular. From him, on the other hand? _Several things_.”

Something tells her not to believe what he says about her. He must have come here partially to cause problems and terrible awkwardness between her and Illumi, just because he can.

“You look particularly beautiful today, Machi. Why is that?” Hisoka continues. She knows what he’s thinking about right now. He’s remembering a certain incident from months ago, when she spent a night with him to forget about her loneliness and quell her own desires.

A few choice words just happen to slip from her mouth, and Hisoka’s brilliant laugh echoes off the walls. She stalks away, trying not to let the two of them see her blush.

.......

She doesn’t see Illumi at all the next morning. But she does hear the doorbell ring again, and possibly the repeated thumping of a headboard against a wall, as well as Hisoka’s characteristic moans (for heaven’s sake . . .), and Hisoka conversing idly with the butlers as they escort him out an hour later.

Heat is pumping through every inch of her veins, and it has nothing to do with the fireplace in the library. No, it has to do with the fact that she spent an hour imagining Illumi doing all sorts of things in his bedroom, her imagination going wild after being touch-starved for so long.

Before she knows it, the object of her musings appears in the small library, angular face illuminated by the light of the fire. She tries to look for flaws in that face, but there are none. Illumi’s eyes are a rich darkness, his cheekbones are sharp, and his lips are the charming shade of a pink rose.

But he doesn’t see her at first. Instead, he heads for one of the large bay windows, perches on the ledge, and buries his face in both hands, his entire body slumping forward in defeat. 

He’s capable of breaking down. He’s capable of being vulnerable.

When he looks up, his expression is still blank, dead, like it always is. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism that he’ll always go back to. Because surprised tears are streaming down those high cheekbones, and surely that can’t be a sign of being entirely cold-blooded and dispassionate. 

Then, his expression changes. She despises him for looking at her like that - with sudden distrust, with icy resentment slowly easing its way into his features.

She has a pretty good idea of what could be making him so upset. “You’re a fool for letting Hisoka break your heart. Aren’t Zoldycks supposed to be more intelligent than that?”

There’s an edge to his voice when he responds, a harshness that usually doesn’t make itself known. “Machi,” he says quietly, but with venom, “you have no idea what you’re talking about.” What he really wants to say is written in his black irises: _You know exactly what you’re talking about, and I don’t like it._

Despite how unlikable he is, she can’t help but identify with his vulnerability. As Hisoka puts it, Machi is the epitome of foolishness, an utter slave to her own empathy.

She finds herself making her way to him. Standing tall over his seated form, she asks, “Do you love him?” 

Machi has never seen such pure hatred in anyone’s aura before. “Never.” Without any hesitation, he elaborates. “Love is a poison.”

She’s never felt more sorry for anyone before.

.........

The next day, she locates Illumi in the library again, staring out of the window with gloom traced across every inch of his face. (But the gloom does nothing to lessen his attractiveness, she can’t help but notice).

This is twice now that she’s caught him in a low moment that few, if any, must have ever caught him in. He’s refusing to look at her, possibly feeling ashamed, but not wanting to show it.

“Are you okay?” she asks. He blinks. She wonders if he thinks it’s a joke.

But, just before she turns to walk away from the area, she notices him shake his head very slightly, the faintest indication of a response to her question. Did he mean for her to see that?

Maybe, as much as he can’t stand the idea of it, he still appreciates attention, even if it’s from someone he strongly dislikes. Maybe attention is something he’s very unfamiliar with.

.......

She wonders if he even cares about Kalluto, or if what he wants is to be in possession of him. That’s what she’s tempted to ask Illumi the next day, when she enters the library again.

“I told Kalluto that I’d play checkers with him today,” Machi says, hands on her hips. “But he said that he couldn’t anymore, because _you_ told him to stay away from me. Is something wrong with you?”

He’s staring out of the window again, remaining silent. He’s brooding again, face empty, eyes heavy. She suspects he’s not even trying to hide his bad mood anymore, since this is the third time he’s been caught now.

All of this can’t possibly be about Hisoka. She’s heard plenty regarding his family and their cruel ways. Maybe they’re the reason he never seems to be at peace with himself.

“Do you actually like to read, or do you only come here to admire your reflection in the window?” she says before she can stop herself. His mouth twitches as though he’s about to laugh, but then he catches himself before he can. Has he ever laughed before? 

She plucks a familiar title off of a nearby shelf, in an effort to be helpful for some reason, and places it next to him on the windowsill. “I heard this one’s good for getting into reading. It’s a vampire love story.”

He observes it like it’s a ticking bomb, like he distrusts her motives. “A romance novel? There’s nothing of value in such types of books.” His gaze becomes ice at the thought of romance, even though his voice is indifferent, and he returns to looking out the window. He must be able to sense that she’s completely ridiculous, someone who can’t help but display kindness towards people she doesn’t even like.

That’s why she stands up to leave. But he speaks before she can. “Do _you_ admire your reflection often, Machi?”

“Sometimes.”

He furrows his brow slightly. “That’s the sort of vain answer one would expect from Hisoka.”

This is the longest conversation they’ve ever had, and she’s still not sure what the purpose of it is. “If you say so.”

His eyes roam over her face, as if considering something for the first time.

“Was Hisoka a good lover to you?” So, Hisoka told him everything, did he? Envy creeps into Illumi’s expression. But who is it directed towards – her or Hisoka?

Just to see what he’ll do, she answers with a smile. “Physically? Yes.” His hand curls into a fist, the only sign that this is bothering him.

She thinks about Illumi with Hisoka again, looming over him in his bed.

Her yearning is twisted, but that’s nothing new. All spiders are twisted.

…………

Later that night, he walks in on her while she’s changing clothes, her gray tunic clutched in her hands, her skin searing hot under his intent observation.

She doesn’t think for a second that he walked in by mistake. Or that he’s here for any reason other than wanting to possess someone that Hisoka has once possessed.

Like every other spider, she’s not good at avoiding temptation. She was supposed to kill him in case he proved to be a danger.

Instead, she’s unzipping and unbuttoning his pants, then stripping off what few clothes she had on to begin with.

He slams her into the wall, reminding her of Hisoka, but filled with more pent-up frustration, more unrestrained fire in every movement. He lifts both of her legs and wraps them around his waist, already so hard against her.

Hisoka must have described their encounter in detail, because this is exactly what happened during that night. Illumi squeezes her windpipe just enough for it to not seriously harm her, and the light suffocation only heightens her arousal as his hips thrust against hers.

Right now, all that exists is Illumi. Him, deep inside of her. Him, letting go of her throat to stifle her moans. Him, pulling out of her just in time, white dripping down her thighs as she gasps for air, stars blocking her vision.

……….

They don’t speak to each other after that for the remainder of the week. But they do have more moments like that.

..........

When the week is over, Machi sees Illumi once every month for a year, whenever she brings Kalluto home to see his family.

She still stays the night, and they still don’t talk. There’s no need for any of that, when there’s only one thing they want from each other.

Until one day when she decides to speak to him again in the library. She takes the white roses that she found in the garden, and places them in a vase next to him, where he’s leaning against the windowsill again.

“I don’t want gifts from you, Machi.” He doesn’t look at her like he can’t stand her anymore. Instead, his face is void of all emotion, like it usually is, although the tension that he carries in his shoulders under the watchful gaze of his family vanishes. “Let me make this clear. You are of little value to me,” he says very simply. It doesn’t sting, she tells herself. She already knew that.

“I know. I just thought they were pretty.”

“So are you. But frankly, that’s all you’re useful for.” He sounds a little more adamant this time, like he doesn’t quite believe her. He’s too intelligent to believe her lies.

At that moment, Kikyo appears, and Machi freezes, leaning against the windowsill next to Illumi. She knows how this looks.

Machi can imagine that Kikyo must be giving her eldest son a look of death underneath whatever contraption she’s wearing on her head. That much is obvious from the straight line of her mouth, devoid of any and all humanity.

Kikyo says nothing, perhaps expecting her silence to speak for itself. When his mother leaves the room, the tension creeps back into Illumi’s shoulders, and Machi knows that Illumi will never speak to her again. She knows that he’ll heed his mother’s unspoken warning, and let her control him like a puppet.

………….

When Machi returns to the Troupe later that afternoon, she coughs up her first flower petal. She thinks it’s red at first because of the blood, but upon closer inspection, she realizes that the petal is white. A white rose.

 _Hanahaki disease. A sickness brought on by an individual experiencing unrequited love, and which will eventually lead to suffocation once the flower has completely blocked the airways_. She has the textbook definition practically memorized, after listening to news reports and secondhand accounts from strangers.

She was always destined to contract _Hanahaki_. She always had more sympathy for others’ well-being than her own. It was only a matter of time.

She waits an hour, but a second petal doesn’t make an appearance. That can only mean one thing.

That same night, she returns to the Zoldyck manor by herself. 

Gotoh answers the door instead of Illumi. She breezes past him and follows Illumi’s flickering aura to the garden, where he’s practically hacking up his lungs.

“Illumi.” She’s never spoken his name aloud before, in all the time that she’s known him.

There’s no stopping what will happen now, and her heart is too numb with shock to process it. Maybe this is how Illumi feels all the time – numb and unfeeling.

Machi knows what will happen next. When _Hanahaki_ disappears, it doesn’t truly disappear. It transfers to the other person, the one who is the object of the unrequited love. But this transfer only happens when the love is unrequited due to pure, unbridled hatred on the part of the other person. In other words, Illumi despises Machi to the very core.

He still can’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the scarlet-covered petals shining in the moonlight. She places a hand on his shoulder, and he throws it off violently. His _nen_ snaps at her like an explosion, causing her to stumble backwards and fall to the ground so that she’s beneath him, with him towering over her. 

It turns out that Machi didn’t need a dagger to end Illumi Zoldyck after all. All she needed was his heart.

There’s nothing to say to the swirling void of loathing in his eyes. It’s not possible to mend that sort of malice.

This might be the last time she ever sees him, surrounded by stars at the dead of night, broken white petals on the ground to match a broken heart.

Machi knows that what he says next will be the last thing that he ever utters to her, that he ever utters to anyone. She closes her eyes as the words hit her, because she knows that he’ll take her life before the words have had time to settle in the air. “I told you that love was a poison.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments below (including any constructive criticism)! I love hearing from my readers.
> 
> I just love throwing characters into a confined space and seeing what happens. The result is usually interesting XD


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